I stepped into his embrace, feeling his arms tighten protectively around me. I tucked my head under his chin, breathing in his familiar scent of salt, steel, and something uniquely him, as we spun into the ether.
When we landed, I immediately felt a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature. Even the warmth of Griff’s arms couldn’t counteract it. The wooded landscape stretched before us under an eerie gray sky. Though no snow was falling at the moment, the air itself felt heavy, oppressive.
I looked around hesitantly, the sense of wrongness deepening with each passing second. There were no sounds. No birdsong. No leaves rustling in the breeze. Just the quiet rasp of our breathing.
Griff still hadn’t released me, and I opened my mouth to ask a question, but his tense expression kept me silent.
He pulled my hood up over my hair, his fingers lingering. “Keep this on as long as you can,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re too damn recognizable. Let’s not announce your presence if we can help it.” His hands rested on my shoulders, gripping them tightly. “Remember your promise.”
“I’ll do what you tell me,” I whispered back.
He gave me a hard look, as if he was debating returning me immediately to the safety of Valdris, but instead, he motioned me to stay behind him as he led the way through the woods. Snow crunched under my feet as we followed some invisible path that Griff could sense. With each step, the wrongness grew thicker, more sinister.
We had walked for about a quarter of an hour when Griff stopped so quickly I almost collided with his back. A figure stumbled out of the gray shadows in front of us, gasping when they spotted us.
“Champion? Is that really you?” The relief in their voice was palpable, but underneath was barely contained terror.
“What happened here?” Griff’s voice was the steady calm I had come to expect from him, giving no sign of the tension I knew lurked beneath.
“They came out of nowhere, Champion. No warning. No time. But I shouldn’t be the one telling you. The chieftain would want to explain.” Their eyes darted to me curiously but I kept my face in shadow.
“Lead on.”
Griff gave me a meaningful look, and I kept close to him. The scent of burning thatch and wood scorched my nostrils, making my eyes water. I saw the smoke first, plumes of dark columns rising intothe gray sky.
As the woods thinned, a village—or rather what remained of a village—came into view. People were crying and moving through the wreckage, trying to salvage what they could from the ruins. Half of the houses were still burning, roofs collapsed into smoking heaps. Livestock ran amok through the streets. Children wailed while parents desperately tried to comfort them, all the while looking for missing loved ones and attempting to rescue whatever belongings hadn’t been consumed by flames.
The sounds of devastation tugged at my soul, a pain so sharp I pressed my hand to my chest to keep from crying out.
Was this what Griff had to deal with every time he left? How often was this happening? And how in Erde’s name would these people—mypeople—recover?
Griff stopped me with a hand to my shoulder before approaching the village chieftain. I waited where he left me, catching fragments of their conversation.
“Was anyone touched?” I heard him ask.
The chief shook his head grimly. “But we haven’t accounted for everyone yet.”
A whimper caught my attention. Tucked out of the way, nestled against a half-collapsed house, was a small child, crying and clutching a soot-stained doll. With a glance at Griff who was still deep in conversation, I moved off the path to kneel beside her as people continued hustling back and forth, cleaning up the debris of the village.
“Hey there,” I said softly. “Can I clean your doll?”
She nodded and held her out to me.
I wiped away the grime as best I could, then pressed a kiss to the doll’s head. “Good as new.”
“Will you help us?” she asked in a small voice.
“I’ll do anything I can.” The promise resonated deep in my bones. These weremypeople.
Someone called a name and my new friend’s head popped up. I watched as she ran to a woman who caught her up in a fierce hug,admonishing her for running off. Standing off to the side, I was wondering how best to help, when a man passing by looked me over.
“Can you carry a bucket?” he asked.
“Of course. Put me to work.”
As I joined him, I spared half a glance at Griff. I had broken my promise to follow his direction, but he had left me as soon as we arrived. Not that I blamed him—he had plenty of more important things to deal with. But I couldn’t just stand there and watch when I could be helping. He must have felt my eyes on him because he gave me a terse nod, before turning back to his conversation.
We worked for hours. I furtively used my channels to calm the fires, bring up water, encourage the earth to heal. When at last the final fire was extinguished, the draining exhaustion that only came with channeling power flooded through me. I sagged against a tree as one of the men who I’d been working alongside offered me a water flask.
